


Mistake

by otomriddle



Category: Pacific Rim (Movies)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-23
Updated: 2018-12-18
Packaged: 2019-01-21 16:02:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,954
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12461157
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/otomriddle/pseuds/otomriddle
Summary: "What a horrible way of admitting it, you know, by e-mail"





	1. Chapter 1

> _To: Newton Geiszler (newt.g )_
> 
> _Subjetc: Re: Article BioEssays_
> 
> __
> 
> _Geiszler, I fear I must admit that, although you have many flaws, I do love yo_

__

Hermann blinked slowly to the screen's notification. It took him a long moment to realize he had hit send by accident, and now his colleague had received nothing but the start of the length e-mail he had planned to send. The man sighed, touching the bridge of his nose.

He knew the mistake had been entirely his fault. Hermann hadn't slept in 2 days, working tirelessly to find out the next Kaiju attack. He was supposed to be sleeping, not writing reviews of articles at 3 a.m.

The man stood up with a groan, reaching for his stick. He limped to the nearby table, not bothering to turn any light on – he knew his tiny dormitory way too well by now, and the faint light from the computer screen was more than enough for him to serve himself a cup of coffee.

Again Hermann made his way back to his uncomfortable chair, feeling more disposed now to correct his previous e-mail to Geiszler. The man left the stick in its customary spot and sat again, snapping his fingers.

Hermann had read his colleague's latest article, following Newton's own request. His exact words, as he recalled perfectly, were "I wanna know if the math of the thing is right since the rest is obviously on spot."

Evidently, not only the rest, as well as the math applied were right. Hermann was about to praise his colleague's work before sending the message by mistake. Although he could be a bit of an idiot when he wanted, Geiszler was most certainly a good academic. His article was well written, so to the point that anyone could understand, and although the chosen subject had been researched before, it hadn't been done so brilliantly.

Hermann opened his e-mail again. After a moment of consideration, he started tipping more carefully as to avoid accidentally forwarding the unfinished message once more. His reply, to Hermann's own surprise, was lengthier than he had expected – two thousand words for a simple "the math is correct and you wrote a good article" answer? It was positively startling. He thought to himself he was becoming prolix, maybe a direct consequence of Geiszler's company; his colleague never really shut up, after all.

With a shrug, the man hit send. He was too tired to rewrite the whole thing, and besides, it had been the first nice message he could recall sending Geiszler since… Well, since after they had met for the first time.

At least he took the care to apologize for the accidental message right in the beginning of the e-mail. Geiszler would surely read that, even if he ignored the rest of the two thousand words.

Hermann was about to close his e-mail and call it a day when a message popped up on the screen. He had a new e-mail, it seemed. With a sigh, the man opened his inbox, his finger tapping on the table impatiently. Maybe it was a message from the USA board – they never cared about the time zones there.

To his surprise, it was Geiszler's. Hermann furrowed his eyebrows, clicking the e-mail. He had just sent his reply to the man thirty seconds ago! He certainly could've not had read it so quickly… Unless, of course, he didn't read it at all.

The thought angered Hermann. He had just spent his precious time reading and reviewing Geiszler's article, and he couldn't take a few minutes to read his reply? It was typical of him – and also infuriating.

The screen opened to reveal his colleague's message:

__

> _To: Hermann Gottlieb (hermann.g )_
> 
> __
> 
> __
> 
> _Subject: Re: Re: Article BioEssays_
> 
> __
> 
> __
> 
> _Hermann, forgive me if there's any typos in this e-mail, but I'm very nervous and shaking and probably won't lose time spell checking it._
> 
> __
> 
> __
> 
> _Your e-mail was unexpected, but it just made my day – life – happier!_
> 
> __
> 
> __
> 
> _I never imagined you loved me…. And, may I say, what a horrible way of admitting it, you know, by e-mail. I like romance, fyi._
> 
> __
> 
> __
> 
> _But I suppose I can't complain. You have no idea for how long I dreamt about this. I thought you hated me?_
> 
> __
> 
> __
> 
> _You always acted like you hated me, since that first moment we saw each other._
> 
> __
> 
> __
> 
> _It doesn't matter now, though. I feel the same._
> 
> __
> 
> __
> 
> _I love you, Hermann._
> 
> __
> 
> __
> 
> _How pathetic it is that I annoyed you because I wanted your attention? You were always so cold toward me. The only moment we talked was when we were screaming at each other._
> 
> __
> 
> __
> 
> _I know, I know, I acted like a 12 y/o boy with his first crush, but you did the same, pretending to hate me only to admit you loved me by e-mail at 3 a.m._
> 
> __
> 
> __
> 
> _Whatever, I guess._
> 
> __
> 
> __
> 
> _How I can one babble in a MESSAGE?_
> 
> __
> 
> __
> 
> _I love you._
> 
> __
> 
> __
> 
> _You also have many flaws. We will have to work on them._
> 
> __
> 
> __
> 
> _K, bye._

__  
__  


____

Hermann read the message twice, shaking his head every once in a while. Whatever sleep he had felt was gone now. The man opened his mouth as to say something, but no sound came out.

What in hell's name was Geiszler talking about? With his heart beating so heavily he could actually feel it in his chest, Hermann opened the "sent items" box as to read again the first e-mail he had sent – the one sent by accident.

Something resembling an "I love you" could be read.

"Oh boy," Hermann said aloud, his voice hoarse. He had made a terrible mistake.

The man stood up, suddenly feeling the need to walk… Somewhere. He quickly gave up on this idea when he felt his legs so weak they could not support him. Instead, he limped heavily to his slim old bed, his stick forgotten next to the chair.

How could Geiszler be so dumb as not to realize the e-mail was incomplete? Stupid, stupid boy!

A little voice inside his mind reminded him his colleague had ADDH and was probably running strictly on coffee for the past 5 days.

Hermann groaned, hiding his face on his pillow. His heart was still beating as though he had just run a mile, and now he could feel his clothes damping with sweat. The man would never be able to look at Geiszler ever again.

Maybe he could ask to be transferred? Despise his claims otherwise, he never did require a transfer, so Hermann didn't know whereas that was a possibility or not.

That same little voice inside him stated he was being a coward now, and Hermann thoroughly agreed. He was a coward.

Yes, the transfer would do. He would send a message to the USA board at once.

The man stood up once more, pulling the chair closer to the bed, throwing himself on it. His knee was throbbing badly, but he expertly ignored it.

His e-mail was still open, and there was a new message.

By Geiszler.

__

> _To: Hermann Gottlieb (hermann.g )_
> 
> _Subject: Re: Re: Article BioEssays CORRECT_
> 
> __
> 
> __
> 
> _Forgive me._

__

__

For some reason, Hermann was more shocked by this second e-mail than by the first one.

Only two words, nothing more. And yet, they were so unlike the Geiszler he knew – unapologetic and careless. Hermann could nearly feel his shame and heartbreak through that screen.

Suddenly, the transfer seemed a stupid idea. How could he get away from Geiszler? After all they've been through together? He knew everything about his colleague - from the small things that shaped his personality to the major ones that influenced his choices. 

And who was Hermann fooling, after all? He did love him, probably since the third message they had exchanged, long before they met each other on that fateful day.

The man opened a new message, determined to tell Geiszler – Newt – how he felt about him – prove him right, tell him he had nothing to be sorry about. If he had opened his heart, Hermann owned him the same kindness.

His fingers hovered over the keyboard, shaking badly. The man watched them, lost in thoughts, one phrase stuck in his mind. "what a horrible way of admitting it, you know, by e-mail".

Hermann took a deep breath.

__

> _To: Newton Geiszler (newt.g )_
> 
> _Subjetc: Re: Re: Re: Article BioEssays CORRECT_
> 
> __
> 
> __
> 
> _I'm going to your dorms._
> 
> _Don't freak out._

__  
__  


He hit sent, took his stick and, as fast as he could with a painful knee, left his room.


	2. Chapter 2

Newt was drenched in kaiju blood. _No, scratch that,_ he thought to himself, _I have been drenching in kaiju blood_. Since all he had saw lately was the deep blue of the kaiju blood, the usage of the present perfect wasn’t particularly wrong… Even if Newt could vividly imagine Hermann’s distaste with his unorthodox use of grammar.

As the man made a deep cut into a bright red tentacle, blood gushing on his fingers, he thought how Hermann looked at him with narrowed eyes and a clenched jaw every time Newt did something to displease his neatly arranged order; the remembrance made him laugh in the empty lab, his voice echoing gloomily for a moment.

With a heavy sigh, Newt pushed the tentacles – or its remaining – into a big container filled with formalin. The strong smell made his eyes burn and his throat hurt, but he expertly ignored it, focusing on closing hermetically the container as not to spoil the sample.

Lately, it had been getting harder and harder to receive any kaiju’s parts. Normally, one would think that was a good sign: it should mean there were less attacks. The key word was _should_. The fact was that their program was a report away from being deemed a failure, and thus, they had less money to kill kaijus and bring their parts back to the genius who was trying to save the fucking world.

Newt stood still for a moment, looking at the mess on his side of the lab. There was kaiju blood everywhere, as well as fluids which he honestly had no idea what were supposed to be or how they got there. Forgetting his hands were still stained blue, Newt put them on his hips as a voice inside his head – which sounded frighteningly like Hermann’s – told him to tidy up a bit. The man looked at the big clock on the other side of room (Hermann’s side) and realized it was already well past 1 a.m. Shacking his head, Newt gave up on the idea of cleaning. He preferred to have a few hours of sleep and face his colleague’s wrath in the morning.

As the man made his way to the bedroom, that same annoying voice sounded in his mind again, telling him to shower or else his room would be just as blue as he was. This time, Newt groaned loudly; he knew he had to, but he certainly didn’t feel like it. Still, he walked past the door where, he knew, his uncomfortable bed would be waiting, and instead made his way to their cold shared bathroom – empty, given the time. Newt had planned to take a quick shower, but it was hard to clean blood, and especially hard when it was blue. By the time he reached his bedroom, his eyes were half-closed and he could feel a migraine forming.

As he prepared to sleep, he refused to look at the watch on his table; the red numbers would only add anxiety into his mind, reminding him that he had less time to sleep with every minute that passed.

Newt turned the light off and laid on the bed, his eyes taking a moment to adjust until he could make out the forms of his ceiling. Not for the first time, he wondered if that was how sardines felt in their cans: suffocated and hopeless. Probably not, since sardines didn’t have the world to save. And they were also already dead, so they probably didn’t think anything about their environment. Those lucky bastards.

The man remembered how Hermann scolded him when he shared his thoughts about their dorms. _We are in the safest place on Earth right now, you shouldn’t complain when there are people who don’t even have houses to take shelter on_ , he had said in that stern voice, making Newt both offended and aroused. Those two emotions seemed to be one and the same when dealing with Hermann – although that was probably only on Newt’s case.

He moved, trying to find a comfortable enough position so his mind would turn off; it was pointless, he knew, but he still tried. Newt started to count mentally how much sleep he had had on the past week (three hours each night, at best) and how much sleep he could get that night (four hours, if he was really lucky). He moved again, feeling restless. He should go to sleep, instead of think how little sleep he will get the longer he stays awake.

Newt groaned again, pulling the blanked over his head as he tried to ignore the anxiety building itself inside him. He felt tempted to grab his klonopin from the drawer, which was hidden below the sketches for his next tattoo. It would be quick: all he needed was to take one (maybe two) and sleep away. But he knew that wasn’t going to solve his problem – and it would probably make Hermann worried; or annoyed; most likely both.

Despise advising Newt to not medicate himself needlessly, Hermann was very careful with his colleague’s treatment as well.  If one were to open the middle drawer from his neat table, they would find a little bag with all of Newt’s meds – from carbamazepine to aspirin, Hermann had it all prepared if the need ever arouse. And Newt wasn’t proud to admit he had used the emergency bag more than once; what he could say? He had the memory of a goldfish when it came to taking his meds. Hermann, on the other hand, was like an alarm clock himself: everyday, at exactly 9 a.m., he would look up from whatever calculation he was working on to ask Newt in a husky tone “ _have you taken your med yet?”_. It was one of Newt’s greatest pleasures to answer _“yes”_ and see the little satisfied smile on Hermann’s face.

With a sigh, Newt sat on his bed. He would give up on sleeping right now. Instead, the man would sort his e-mails. He could always tell Hermann he’d take the day off to catch on his sleep; his colleague was, after all, the only one who would both care and notice his absence anyway. And Hermann would not forbid him from doing so – although he would reprimand the other thoroughly.

Newt jumped out of the bed and into the comfortable chair near his table. That chair was most likely the only comfortable item Newt owned; but it was important to take care of one’s spine, especially when most of his work was done while sitting. The computer turned on slowly, and the man tapped his finger on the metal table, a habit that often annoyed Hermann, who had to share a lab with Newt and his anxiousness.  

To Newt’s surprise, the most recent e-mail he had received was from a certain Dr. Gottlieb – and not long ago.

Furrowing his eyebrows, Newt clicked on it, feeling his finger shaking – although if by lack of sleep or nervousness, he did not know.

 

> _To: Newton Geiszler (newt.g )_
> 
> _Subjetc: Re: Article BioEssays_
> 
> _Geiszler, I fear I must admit that, although you have many flaws, I do love you._

Newt blinked, staring at the computer with a blank face. Suddenly, he felt a laugh erupt from within him, the sound out of place in his tiny and dark room, but still feeling like the most amazing sound he had let it out in the last year or so.

 _Hermann loves me_ , he repeated to himself, _loves me, me, me!_ A little voice in his head wondered whether that wasn’t a mistake. Perhaps, Hermann referred to another Geiszler… Perhaps he meant he was in love with Newt’s uncle.

Somehow, the thought made Newt laugh even more. No, there was no mistaking it. Hermann was in love with him – and only him. The man though about all the little things that corroborated that conclusion: how Hermann always watched over him, and how his bickering never felt really serious; and most importantly, how Newt had been so sure they were both madly in love with each other before they had met in person. Then, Hermann had shattered his resolution with scorn and annoyance, but what if he was simply embarrassed? God knew Newt could be _very_ embarrassing when he wanted to.

Newt read the message again, his fingers tracing the words on the screen as if by their own accord. He could scarcely believe it, but it was real. Hermann Gottlieb had confessed his love to Newton Geiszler at 3 a.m., right after assuring him he had many flaws. It was the most unromantic and loveless way to confess one’s feeling – and Newt never read anything prettier.

Feelings his chest constricted, but lighter than it had ever been, Newt started to type an answer, a stubborn smile opening in his face against his will.

 

> _To: Hermann Gottlieb (hermann.g )_
> 
> _Subject: Re: Re: Article BioEssays_
> 
> _Hermann, forgive me if there's any typos in this e-mail, but I'm very nervous and shaking and probably won't lose time spell checking it._
> 
> _Your e-mail was unexpected, but it just made my day – life – happier!_
> 
> _I never imagined you loved me…. And, may I say, what a horrible way of admitting it, you know, by e-mail. I like romance, fyi._
> 
> _But I suppose I can't complain. You have no idea for how long I dreamt about this. I thought you hated me?_
> 
> _You always acted like you hated me, since that first moment we saw each other._
> 
> _It doesn't matter now, though. I feel the same._
> 
> _I love you, Hermann._
> 
> _How pathetic it is that I annoyed you because I wanted your attention? You were always so cold toward me. The only moment we talked was when we were screaming at each other._
> 
> _I know, I know, I acted like a 12 y/o boy with his first crush, but you did the same, pretending to hate me only to admit you loved me by e-mail at 3 a.m._
> 
> _Whatever, I guess._
> 
> _How I can one babble in a MESSAGE?_
> 
> _I love you._
> 
> _You also have many flaws. We will have to work on them._
> 
> _K, bye._

As soon as Newt hit send, a new message appeared on his screen – also from Hermann. He furrowed his eyebrows, wondering if his colleague (slash lover?) had forgotten to tell him something on the first message.

 

> _To: Newton Geiszler (newt.g )_
> 
> _Subject: Re: Article BioEssays CORRECT_
> 
> _First, I’d like to apology for the previous unfinished e-mail. As you can most likely tell, I’m writing this e-mail at a very late hour, and thus I made a mistake and accidently forwarded the afore mentioned message before writing my thoughts about your work._
> 
> _That being said, please allow me to start again: although you have many flaws as a person, I do adore your work as an academic. The article you sent me is, if I am one to say, one of the best works on the field thus far-_

Newt didn’t read the rest of the message – a very length one, a part of his brain noticed. No, instead the man got up, walked around his room once, and sat on the ground. He realized his action was completely pointless, and yet he felt as if he had lost control over his body and mind.

Hermann didn’t love him. Of course he didn’t love, what was there to love in him, after all? A broken genius whose only job was to save the world, and yet all he did was break it all the more. Newt felt a lump on his throat, but he refused to cry. He couldn’t do that. It wasn’t Hermann’s fault, really; he didn’t feel anything for Newt, and Newt knew that since the beginning. That was, after all, the reason why they fell apart after meeting for the first time: Newt loved Hermann, and Hermann didn’t love Newt. The typical one-sided love story, with its typical end in a heartbreak.

The tears Newt had been fighting against started to stream down his face silently. Somehow, he could almost hear Hermann’s voice, calling him a _stupid, stupid boy!_ for misunderstanding the obvious intent of the message. And he agreed with him for once. He was a very stupid, stupid boy.

Feeling his heart on his stomach, Newt got up again, sitting on the chair and looking at the computer, his vision blurry thanks to the still falling tears. The man started to type an answer, but every time he would erase the message after a couple of words. He didn’t know what to say. What he did know was that, if he let things as they were, Hermann would run away. And as the stupid boy he was, Newt couldn’t let that happen – he could accept the fact that Hermann didn’t love him, but he couldn’t live knowing that Hermann would not be by his side until the end of times (which, if his colleague’s calculations were right, would be pretty soon).

Finally, Newt decided a simple message would suffice to express how he was feeling and, luckily, to make Hermann _stay_. It was a low blow, he could admit, but desperate men are low.

 

> _To: Hermann Gottlieb (hermann.g )_
> 
> _Subject: Re: Re: Article BioEssays CORRECT_
> 
> _Forgive me._

For a long moment, Newt stared at his message. He wondered for a second if all of that wasn’t just a bad dream caused by klonopin. He certainly felt like nothing was real: he felt dizzy, lightheaded, and all around him felt far away. The man couldn’t focus on anything but the screen, his unread e-mails glowing at him.

Suddenly, a new message. Again. By Hermann. Again.

Newt blinked at his screen, once more wondering if all of those messages hadn’t been actually hallucinations caused by lack of sleep. It was, after all, a possible occurrence.  He closed his eyes for a moment, only to slowly open them again.

No, the message was still there, waiting to be read.

Newt pulled his face closer to the screen, asking himself if he had read it wrong and the messages were actually from someone else – he was more or less certain that he once spoke with someone called Dr. Gotmieb.

No, it was definitely a message by Hermann.

The man groaned, hitting his forehead forcefully on the table. He knew he had to read the message eventually – but he didn’t want that eventually to be _now_.

He thought about turning off the computer and trying to sleep and forget, but it would be pointless. His curiosity would not let him do anything until he read with his own eyes what was most likely a rejection message from the guy he had been in love with for the past 10 years.

Newt looked up again and, with narrowed eyes, clicked on Hermann’s e-mail at the exact moment someone knocked on his door. The man looked over his shoulder, and then back at the screen, where he read:

 

> _To: Newton Geiszler (newt.g )_
> 
> _Subjetc: Re: Re: Re: Article BioEssays CORRECT_
> 
> _I'm going to your dorms._
> 
> _Don't freak out._

As another knock was heard, in true Newt style, he started to freak out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Klonopin is used as a treatment for panic disorder and anxiety (among other things).  
> Carbamazepine is used as a treatment for bipolar disorder (among other things)
> 
> -
> 
> Me: they want a second chapter! How nice! Let's do it.  
> Evil me: if they think I am going to write the second chapter about them both meeting after the wrong e-mails,think again.


End file.
